


What Is That?!

by lavenderlotion



Series: Stetopher Appreciation Week [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles, Cuddles, Evil Deaton, Get Together, Getting Together, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Manipulative Deaton, Necromancy, Polyamory, Polygamy, Post-Season/Series 03, Scent Marking, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stetopher Week, Stetopher Week 2017, Zombie, deaton is a douche, inconveniently falling in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-22 19:27:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12489124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlotion/pseuds/lavenderlotion
Summary: It was supposed to be a simple ward check. All Deaton said was that he felt something malicious enter the territory.None of them were expecting Zombies.





	What Is That?!

**Author's Note:**

> October 25th - Horror. 
> 
> The call is coming from within the house types of fics. It doesn’t have to be cliche, anything from scary as fuck to just unsettling will work, zombies, vampires… of course werewolves can fit in this
> 
>  
> 
> [Check out the rest of the weeks prompts, right here!](http://tridom.tumblr.com/post/166440096409/stetopher-week-prompts)

Stiles had no idea what to expect. The text from Scott had just said there was  _ something _ in the territory, but that Deaton had said it felt malicious. That was another reason that Stiles hated the older man. Deaton was incredibly self serving, always had been and the only reason Scott had never seen it was because Deaton needed him to be stronger. An Emissary was nothing if not for his pack. 

That was one of the main reasons Stiles was perfectly okay staying unattached. When Nogi had left, leaving behind thousands of years of memories, of  _ knowledge _ Stiles had unlocked his Spark. There was magic, great magic contained within himself, wards seared into chest left behind by his mother. Her own descent into madness had caused many things, one of those being her irrational thought that Stiles’ magic would consume him, take over and burn him out, and she had locked it away with her own. 

It had been - hard, those first few months. Having to undo the carefully spelled binds around his power was one thing, having to undo his  _ mother’s _ work was another. And yes, he wanted it gone, wanted it  _ away _ . He wanted - desperately, to be whole, to be able to feel the warm glow of magic inside his chest. But he didn’t want to lose the last bit of his mother that he still had, wanted desperately to hold onto anything that was left of her and keep it close. 

In the end, he had done it, removed any trace of her from his body. It had nearly broken him. But having his spark warm inside him was enough, enough to forgive himself for what he did, for what he considered to be a betrayal - however illogical the thought may have been. He kept it close, guarded it to his heart and didn’t let anyone else know. And he’d been able to - for a while. It was good, having something that was just his, that couldn't be tarnished by the world around him.

But then Peter had almost been killed. Scott had let a coven of witches go after they’d been found killing off woodland creatures. They hadn’t left, instead managing to capture Peter - who was hardly more than Omega back then. It had dirty and messy and the only other person who cared about the wellbeing of the wolf had been - surprisingly - Chris Argent, who had helped Stiles track the witches and watched in awe as the boy ripped them apart. 

The pack had made it to see the tail end of the fight, when Stiles pushed his power at Peter’s wolf so the man could heal quickly, the cuts he was still sluggishly bleeding from closing at once. He and Chris had taken Peter back to the man's apartment, Stiles magic making sure none of the pack would be able to follow them once there. 

And that had been it, really. Stiles refused to talk about it when it came up, wouldn’t comment on his powers, refused to allude to what he could or couldn't. He spent less and less time with pack, instead focusing on his school work and the strange, tentative bond he had formed with Peter and in turn Chris, spending the majority of the time with either man if not all three of them together. It worked for him. He’d never been … the same after his possession, no way he could be knowing what his body did, but more so knowing all of what Nogi left behind. Even though the demon was gone Stiles knew he could never  _ fully _ rid himself of the spirit that had taken host in his mind.

So Stiles had magic, strong magic, though no strong ties to the McCall pack, and he didn’t mind. He was free to do as he pleased, could travel wherever he wanted without having to worry about inter-pack politics like Deaton would. He could use his magic as pleased and not have any of it be dampened like he knew it would if he had bonded himself to Scott as his Emissary. The pack just didn’t have strong enough ties, and no way was Stiles giving away some of his  _ own _ power to help those he often didn’t consider friends.

It didn’t mean he didn’t get called to do things Deaton couldn’t - or more probably  _ wouldn’t _ \- when it was needed of him. So now he was wondering the Preserve, the moon bright and high in the sky lighting the way more than enough. It was quite around him, the sort of stillness that only became post midnight - too late to be called night yet still too early to be called morning. 

It was nice at this time, the near silence of the world settling over him softly. He breathed deep, the air clean this deep into the preserve. He let out a pulse of his magic, walked slowly as it bounced around the forest surrounding him. There weren’t much more than trees this far out, though a soft smile spread over his face when he felt two energies walking toward him. He slowed to a stop, allowing himself a moment to just  _ be _ until the two men caught up with him.

“You got the text as well?” Chris asked, voice a low rumble as it cut through the night.

“I did,” Stiles nodded, leaning back into Peter when the man came close behind him, rubbing his chin over the top of Stiles scalp, slowly moving to his shoulder where he breathed in the boy's scent - sharp with the ozone of his magic.

“I don’t think he texted anyone else,” Peter grumbled, releasing a sigh and rounded to stand next to the spark, bumping their shoulders together.

Chris just snorted, nudging his own shoulder into Stiles’ other side, the men bracketing him. Stiles himself took a deep breath, letting his magic wash over the two beside him - just in case. They’d been through enough, the three of them the most, that taking precautions towards their safety would never be a bad thing. They risked their lives on a regular basis for the well being of the town and more often than not they ended up injured. If Stiles’ magic could do even a little to keep them safe, he wouldn't hesitate.

* * *

They're near the end of the preserve when Stiles first feels it. More than anything it’s a shift in the air, the slightest ripple in the magic of the forest. It’s nothing extraordinary but since Peter and Chris have joined him he’s been able to fully immerse himself in his spark, solely focusing on the energy around him. If he hadn’t he’s entirely sure he would have felt nothing. He leads the two men towards the disturbance, not yet opening his eyes as the  _ something _ grows closer. 

He doesn’t open his eyes until he hears Peter gasp, his eyes shooting open as both men stumble to a stop, Stiles half a step in front. He’s not even entirely sure what he  _ is _ looking at. The,  _ thing _ is tall, seven feet at least and incredibly wide, Stiles sure it’s the width of at least two of him. He’s still not sure what it is, though his spark is screaming at him  _ wrongbadnounaturalgoaway  _ . It’s - well it looks like some sort of gross collection of limbs. One of it’s arms is a pale, sickly flesh while the other doesn’t even look human, twisted and bent and bent again. It’s legs are each a different nationality, one being a strange, muted grey, the other the same deathly pale as it’s first arm. It’s face looks concave, as if it’s fallen into itself.

It’s the most disgusting thing that Stiles has ever seen.

He’s also pretty sure he’s look a  _ real life fucking zombie what the shit!  _

He’s not sure how to react, over the cursing of Chris and the own screaming that his spark is doing. It’s burning brightly with indignation inside his chest, roaring within him and trying to force itself out. But - but he _doesn’t know_ what to do. A quick glance shows Peter in his Beta shift, crouched low as if gearing to pounce and Chris has two pistols, one in each hand as he stares blankly at the beast in front of him.

The thing moves, takes a shaky step towards them and makes a weird rattling noise - oddly impressive since it doesn’t even have a mouth, just a large open space. Stiles takes his own step back, all but tripping in his haste and pulling the other men with him, because his spark is reacting even  _ louder _ and he can feel two more coming this way. Of course he can’t be sure if they’ll be the same, but their energies are even brighter, assumingly stronger - therefor  _ bigger _ than the one in front of them - so Stiles just grabs hold of both and tugs. 

He does trip over his own feel while he tries to turn, shouting out a, “Holy fuck there’s more coming  _ hurry up!  _ ”

They both run with him.

The thing makes a louder noise, possibly echoed by the other freaks of nature as the first begins to chase after them - feet slapping hard and loud against the forest floor. Stiles has no idea how it’s tracking them, seeing as the boy isn’t sure if it even as eyes, but he keeps running, trying to shout back as many spells as he can think of. This isn’t the time for improv magic - no time to let his spark do what it wants - safer now to stick to basics, yelling in polish as he sends blasts of his power hurdling backwards.

The thing is still tracking them and nearing fast. Stiles himself stumbles, being hefted up by Chris and he he’s suddenly having a fucking epiphany _ because holy shit he’s in love with these two men!  _ . He seriously does not have the time to deal with this seeing as he’s currently running for his life, both men in question running along with him. He’s also becoming increasingly aware that the, the thing is getting closer and can feel the two gaining ground as well. 

He stumbles to a halt, dragging his feet into the dirt to throw himself to a stop even as he’s already whirling to face the zombie. It feels like death, like rot and decay and Stiles has never been so disgusted of anything in his life. He can only imagine how Peter must feel being able to  _ smell it  _ \- which is not a thought he’s willing to dwell on. He  _ can’t _ , doesn’t have the time to focus on whatever feelings he suddenly seems to have. Instead he pulls up his spark, lets it shine bright and fierce inside his chest.

His magic had at once been an ember, small and delicate and weak but now it’s nothing short of a forest fire. It swells high within his chest, the glow of his magic reflected against his pale skin casting off light around him. His eyes are burning with it, bright with violence as his body shakes with it, a storm deep within him. He screams out his power, throwing his hands and watching as the creature gets thrown back just in time for another one - this one somehow  _ more  _ grotesque than the last to stumble into the clearing.

The gunshot is loud beside his head and he watches as the bullet tears through the monster's flesh, staring with eyes wide as nothing happens. It doesn’t bleed, hardly stops in it’s pursuit. He has no idea what these creatures are, clearly neither does Chris if the frustrated cursing is anything to go by. He didn’t fucking think zombies were  _ real!  _

But Stiles can’t think properly. His mind is spinning too fast, too much going on. His revelation has rocked him and he’s having trouble coming up with a plan. A plan which they  _ need _ , or their all going to die. There’s also the fact that Deaton  _ must  _ have known about how serious the issue was, or at least would by  _ now _ and so far there hasn’t sent anyone to their rescue. 

And holy fuck, it makes total sense. Stiles barely has the thought to mutter out the man's name before he’s being  _ hit by a fucking truck _ and all but flying through the air, only for his body to collide with another before hitting the ground and sliding several feet. He groans then, his body protesting as he tries to get up. He pushes himself, because he  _ has _ to. He’s not going to let some fuck off of a necromancy kill anyone, let alone the two men he’s apparently fucking in love with. 

So he stands, pushing himself off Peter - who has at least one broken bone - and turns back around to the, and seriously again  _ what the fuck how are zombies real  _ that have been chasing them. 

When he focuses again, really focuses - deep breathes to calm himself, letting his muscle go lax as he lets his consciousness drift, allowing his spark to come to the forefront and guide him - he can easily recognize the taste of Deaton’s magic, as clouded by death as it is. It’s a horrid combination, the fresh scent of Druid mixed so horribly with something as diseased as Necromancy. But there’s no doubt in his mind who raised these creatures, and no doubt on who’s going to pay.

Stiles focuses back on the now, letting his spark flare brighter and hotter, drawing on the energy the forest is handing over, as eager as he is to right the wrong that’s been done. He focuses on his magic, lets it seep out his body and crawl towards the beasts, the three of them are all sort of in the middle of the clearing, stumbling back each time Chris shoots one. He goes for their knees most often - a good strategy - as he backs up closer to himself and Peter. 

He’s careful with his magic until Chris crosses behind him but once he does he  _ pushes _ slamming the beasts down and stripping them of any magic they had. They fall apart then and it’s incredibly anticlimactic - as things generally are, when you’re as powerful as Stiles is - through his mind is swirling too fast and too slow all at once. His muscles feel heavier than they should, his limbs weak and hardly holding up. He barely has time to  _ think _ he’s going to pass out before he does.

* * *

Stiles wakes slow, too warm from the body pressed up against his side. He knows it’s Peter before he even checks, knows his spark wouldn’t allow for anything else. He blinks awake slowly, turning into the other’s man chest with a loud groan. His body is still aching, his head hurting from the amount of magic he pushed out. Not even the sound of Chris deep chuckle can remove him from the warmth of Peter’s chest and he nuzzles deeper, trying to bury himself inside the other man.

The bed dip behinds him as Chris slides in, more heat added the mix but Stiles  _ -doesn’t care _ , because he feels ridiculously safe. He’s also smart enough to know what this means. Neither man would readily give up their bed for anyone, and if they had to give it up to someone to heal they would never share it with them. 

So he’s smart enough to understand the importance of the moment, but he can’t get out of his own head. They could have  _ died _ , would have if Deaton had known even a tenth of Stiles’ power. He literally sent them to their death, one that could no way be traced back to him without a magic user familiar with Deaton’s signature. He must make some sort of noise because Chris scoots impossibly closer, resting his hand wide spread on Peter’s hip, arm encasing him between them.

“Deaton is dead,” Chris says quietly, “Peter heard you say his name. The moment we got you into this bed he was off. I had to surround the house with wolfsbane to keep Scott’s pack out.”

Stiles just hums at this. He’ll deal with it when he can think, probably take his dad and the two men he’s currently  _ cuddling  _ with, _ jesus fuck his life  _ and leave town. It won’t be too hard to get settled. Peter has more money than any one person ever should, his dad can get a security job or just  _ retire already _ , Chris can deal guns from anywhere and Stiles can comfortably become a sugar baby.

“As  _ if _ the Sheriff would let you get away with that,” Chris laughs, kissing the back of Stiles head.

The boy flushes, embarrassed at his lack of filter, “Well, I guess I could get a job.”

Chris just hums in agreement, and it’s enough for now. Even if the plan is half assed and probably going to be complicated, it’s enough to know things  _ will _ be alright. Plus Peter tightens his arms around him, Chris following with him as he gets impossible tighter between two overly warm men. Stiles is pretty sure he complains about the heat, but he might also already be sleeping.

**Author's Note:**

> I am fully aware this is not my best work.  
> I started my new job today - and had to wake up ridiculously early for it. My body was not prepared to get to work while it was still dark out, thank you very much.  
> I had a lot of trouble with this fic. I am not a horror author, it is not something I am good at or particularly enjoy. I don't write action, either. I struggled with this, a lot. In the end, I do think I pulled something together, though I am still unsure how I feel. The story feels rushed when I read it, most likely because it _was_ rushed. I had a hard, hard time writing it. I have about 3k I wrote before this of a completely different story that I ended up completely scraping before starting this, in the vain hope I would finish on time. I have no idea why I'm pushing myself, since it's 11pm the night before.  
>  I promised myself I would remain at least one day ahead, and really wanted to stick with these guidelines, so. Nevertheless I hope you enjoy. I am incredibly excited about tomorrow's prompt, as I have already got something started for it. Likewise Friday is going to be fun for me, as I have some of it already written.  
> i am excited for this week to be over, not because I am not _loving_ it, but because I am really excited to work on my fics for Steter week, and can hopefully have them all completely finished before the week starts - LOL!
> 
> as always thank you so much for reading, I always appreciate comments!!  
> [my tumblr!](https://lavender-lotion.tumblr.com/) i've been trying really hard to be more active, and have been posting stories on there a lot more!


End file.
